Drabbles of Nordics
by Good Omens
Summary: A selection of drabbles mostly centered on Iceland and whomever he is with or wants and one centered on England with Denmark.
1. Jealousy

**A/N: IceBel (onesided) and SpaBel (hints). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. **

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It embarrassed him how much he couldn't stop himself from staring, time to time, _every_ time. It frustrated him the way his heart began beating just a little faster and how he could feel his face heating up the second he thought _she _might be looking back. It even annoyed him the way he immediately looked away when the other looked even close to his direction.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, couldn't understand it, he didn't know what he could do about it. What was going on? Why was this happening?

When he asked Denmark once, the man had laughed at him. When he asked Sweden, he'd tried to explain but Iceland really hadn't understood. Norway had frowned and told him it was nothing, to ignore it, and Finland, who had heard what Norway had told him, had looked away and told him he was fine, there was nothing wrong with it.

It wasn't until Iceland watched her laugh at someone else, smile at someone else, that he understood. Because the burning jealousy he felt when Belgium lightly kissed Spain on the cheek or even looked the way of another male was the one feeling he did understand. Perfectly.


	2. Suspicious

**A/N: TurkIce.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. **

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"What the hell is this?" The tone of voice was low, but they could both still hear it perfectly well, for it cut through the room, cold and filled with suspicions.

The two that the question had been directed at shifted slightly, glancing at each other before the younger one spoke up. Or, well, he tried to at least, but quickly faltered under the glare.

They'd agreed that the younger male should be the one to tell, that it would be for the best for all of them and would probably solve things a lot quicker, but right now? Right now, Turkey could see that it would be up to him to calm the Norwegian man down.

Lightly squeezing Iceland's hand, he pulled away from him and rose into a standing position, staring Norway down, "Exactly what it looks like. Well, kind of. I'm dating your brother."

Then again, Turkey thought to himself an hour later as he stared at the door that had just been slammed in his face, that might not have been the best way to tell the obviously overprotective brother.

Especially not considering they'd been half-naked on the couch when he caught them.


	3. Pride

**A/N: SpaIce.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. **

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"You're so warm," Iceland muttered, unconciously moving closer with a slight sigh. A rumble of amusement disturbed him and he frowned, "Stay still."

With a smile, the Spaniard followed the order, gazing fondly down at the younger male currently placed in his lap, head on his shoulder and arms around him. Spain had, of course, returned the favor by moving his own arms around Iceland but that was more to take care that he wouldn't fall, should he slip into sleep where he was.

Still, the older male could only barely keep down a grin and a chuckle, knowing it'd annoy and embarrass his lover too much - but Ice was just so cute like this! It tugged at his heartstrings and he felt so proud.

It wasn't just because he'd been so lucky to land such a wonderful other, it was also because he'd survived his sort of family, he'd passed their inspection, he'd managed to be perfectly polite and kind while they'd, some of them at least, had gone out of their way to make things difficult for him. And he'd survived, had he mentioned that yet?

Yes, he was perfectly proud of himself for the last few months and it was going to stay that way, too. Spain was never going to screw up this chance.

Especially not after the threat Norway had made - because even though the man had sounded perfectly polite and hadn't spoken a single bad word, the eyes set on him throughout the entire stay had been more than enough to convince him he wasn't ever going near that man, at least.


	4. Annoyance

**A/N: EngDen or DenEng. Kind of. Can be hinted as NorEng, too.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. **

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"..Just you and me!" The Dane ended his cheerful and drunken rant, slinging an arm around his friend of the night.

"It's you and I," England corrected, annoyance written all over his face. Why was he here again? Ah, yes, he owed Norway a favor. And this was how the other man had decided for him to pay him back. Distract Denmark for a night. Should be easy, right?

Except for the fact that somehow the Dane had gotten it in his head that England wanted to get drunk with him, party all night. And England had a meeting to get to, the next day. And important meeting in which he couldn't make a fool of himself.

It took him another half an hour to break and order a beer, two hours to get absolutely pissed and another hour for them both to get thrown out. And the next he knew, he was waking up, completely naked, on the living room floor of Denmark's home, head aching, said Dane a meter away and Norway standing above him, newspaper in hand.

The front page had a picture of two men that could only be the two of them - considering they were only wearing what appeared to be each others flags and nothing more.

He missed his meeting by two hours.


End file.
